


even when you’re crying you’re beautiful too

by effervescentwords



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Child Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 07:12:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13336119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/effervescentwords/pseuds/effervescentwords
Summary: Richie has a tough night at home and finds comfort in his boyfriend’s arms.





	even when you’re crying you’re beautiful too

**Author's Note:**

> they are aged up in this fic!

tap. tap. tap. 

Eddie was overrun with a sense of annoyance at the first noise. He glanced at the clock resting on his dresser. 1:32 AM. 

tap. tap. tap.

“What the fuck?” Eddie muttered sleepily to himself as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, ready to explore what had interrupted his slumber. He was a bit alarmed at first. It could’ve been a burglar, maybe a murderer, or even worse, his mother. 

It took a few glances around the room for him to realize it was coming from his window. By then, he could predict what it was. Eddie peered out the window, clarifying that his prediction was correct.

Richie. Of course it would be him, coming to ruin his sleep. Why did he expect anything less? He swung the window open, the image of his boyfriend with a handful of pebbles now more clear. 

“What’re you doing down there, Rich?” He whisper shouted, voice thick with agitation. Richie shuffled his feet awkwardly, pale face barely visible in the moonlight. 

“You mind if I come up?” Eddie shook his head in confirmation, and Richie began the climb he knew so well. He could probably find his way to Eddie’s bedroom asleep, his favorite place of comfort forever etched in his brain. 

They met at the window, Richie’s face now more evident in the pale glow of Eddie’s beside lamp. 

“Jesus, Richie....” Eddie trailed off as Richie swung his legs inside, feet dropping on the wood floor gently. 

The freckles dotting his right cheek were now a deep purple, as well as the eye above them. A bloody lip and nose. 

Eddie was used to the injuries, but it was never this bad. 

“Ah, I’ll be just fine Ed’s! You know how Wentworth gets when he drinks,” Richie refused to call him ‘dad’, and Eddie didn’t blame him. He was violent and manipulative, a real monster. It went on ever since they were just children, but no one knew how to stop it. Not even his own mother made an effort, usually being just as drunk as her husband. “Got any band aids, though?”

“Sit on the bed. I’ll get my first aid kit.” Richie obeyed, and Eddie trudged to his closet to retrieve the kit. He had to stand on his tip toes to reach the shelf where it laid. Much to his dismay and Richie’s amusement, he barely grew at all. 

Inside the kit was some aspirin, a second aspirator, an extra pair of glasses for Richie, (He lost his original pair quite frequently, causing him to acquire the nickname ‘Velma’ around freshmen year.) some bandaids, cotton swabs, and a mini bottle of rubbing alcohol. He knew his illnesses were fake, but that didn’t stop him from being overly prepared. Living thirteen of his years in fear, it was hard to break old habits. 

He dabbed the alcohol against Richie’s lip, and the boy hissed in pain. Eddie felt guilty. He clearly didn’t need anymore agony tonight. The extra glasses were placed against his face gently. A band aid was pasted on another cut near his temple. He kissed the spot when he was done. 

“You don’t deserve this Richie. We can’t let him do this anymore. I won’t let him do this anymore.” He intertwined their hands. Richie was quiet. It was a rare occurrence, and it meant something was wrong. Richie wasn’t fine, and he didn’t know if he ever would be. 

“I-I just-“ He cut himself off with a sniffle,  
and suddenly he was crying so hard he shook the bed. It was hard for Eddie to watch him like this. The person he loved the most, in so much emotional and physical turmoil. 

“Oh Richie,” He engulfed the boy in a hug, Eddie’s shirt slightly muffling the choked out sobs coming from Richie’s mouth. “It’s okay, baby.” Eddie felt his own eyes getting wet. 

“G-God, why am I like this? Why does he hate me so much?” Eddie gripped Richie’s shoulders, forcing the red puffy eyes to look at him. 

“You’ve done nothing wrong. He’s a fucking asshole, and that’s all there is to it. Never blame yourself. Never.” Richie didn’t reply. He just cried. It was rare to see Richie shed a tear. He masked most of his emotions with humor, so it could be hard to tell what his true feelings were. Eddie was glad he had grown to be able to read him. At this point he was an open book. 

When Richie’s breath slowed down and he was no longer basically hyperventilating, Eddie guided him out of his arms and into a laying position on his bed. It was a tiny bed, but they made it work. Eddie was usually the little spoon, being the smaller one of the pair, but it was evident that tonight Richie needed to be held. It was quiet as Eddie combed his fingers through Richie’s curls, but soon Richie broke the silence.

“I’m sorry I came and dumped all this shit on you.” 

“Whoa. Do not be sorry. I love you, you know that? And so many other people do too.” Richie swiveled around to face Eddie, and he quickly smashed their lips together. It tasted like salt and endearment, a strange combination but was the most accurate representation of their relationship. 

“I love you too. So much,” A slight pause occurred. “One day, I’m gonna marry your cute ass, ya know that Ed’s?” 

“One day, I’m gonna say yes.” 

They both fell asleep significantly happier.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! comments are appreciated x


End file.
